July the Third
by See Through the Mist
Summary: You were so excited for your best friend to come over and spend his early birthday with you. Just one problem, how would you show Alfred that you liked him when you couldn't act differently? Easy. You don't.


Hey guys! Considering I entered a little Valentines' Day writing-thing on DeviantArt, (where it's like Secret Santa, people ask for things and you have to give that person their thing) I've been set with the task of making an America X Reader story. I hope no pitch forks are being sharpened, as this is my first time **doing** a Reader story! Well, hope you like it!

Sorry it took up so much time from the headcanons! They'll start reappearing some time during the week! Latest will be Saturday!

-RMS

* * *

Today was July the third and you couldn't have been happier. Your friend Alfred was coming over to celebrate his early birthday with you. Of course he always throws a giant party for the other nations to join him in on his actual birthday, but this small homey celebration was just for the two of you, much to your immense pleasure. Alfred was yours' for the entire day. The two of you would have a Bar-B-Que and rewatch old war movies followed by an ice cream making contest. You were the winning champ in said contest and you couldn't wait for Alfred to get to your house for the same old festivities.

But, with a slight pang in your heart, you sighed and wished that this special day between best friends could shift ever so slightly to be a celebration between lovers. After spending so much time with boisterous American, it was only natural for you to develop feelings of the romantic variety for the happy-go-lucky blonde. Yet here you sigh as you knew that Alfred only saw you as a friend to spend the day with, not even mentioning the fact America might just be the most oblivious country to feelings, whether they be his own or others'.

(But, then again, even Alfred could surprise you... just maybe?)

Before you could get too dejected, a knock sounded at your door. Oh, and this wasn't just any knock. It was the special knock both you and Alfred came up with; it was the beat to the chorus of American Idiot by _Green Day_. And you had to admit, no matter how many times you heard it, you never failed to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the giggles that wanted to come pouring out. Quickly you shook yourself out of your giggle fest to race over to the door and yank it open, only for two iron arms to wrap around your waist and spin you around in the air, a good three feet from when you were on the ground. This time you let your laughter burst from your throat as you reached down to lock your arms in place around your best friends' neck.

It wasn't too long before you got dizzy, so you leaned forward, efficiently stuffing your chest into Alfred's face. (You have too much experience with Alfred to know that normal means would fly right over his head, and if you wanted him to stop doing something, you had to get creative. Plus, there was the bonus of watching Alfred's face burst into flames with the amount of blood rushing to his cheeks and ears in a rather violent blush.)

Predictably, Alfred dropped you back on the porch of your home, backing off while scratching the back of his head as he stuttered out apologies. You teetered around looking for balance as America started going to into Old English and many Native American languages in his attempt to apologize. When you found balance, you stared incredibly at the still-blushing man before you, wondering why he was reacting this violently. It's not like it was the first time that happened, and really, it was you who should have apologized for crushing your chest into his face.

"(Name)! I'm so so so so so so so so so so sorry! I didn't want to- well maybe, yeah, but-! Wait, that's not-! Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that!"

By now, though thankfully in regular English (or American, as Alfred always told Arthur, the Brit), Alfred was speaking too fast for you to catch anything and it just mainly sounded like gibberish. All you could do was gape at the blustering idiot (_your_ blustering idiot) on your front porch before breaking out into more gut-wrenching laughter. Oh how you wished you had your (f/c) phone with you! Maybe then when you retell this story to (best friends' name) you would have the proof to go with it!

As soon as you started laughing, Alfred quit his tirade of apologizes and it was his turn to stare at you. His blush seemed to both decrease and increase as he gazed at your flushed, tear streaked face as you laughed at the absurdity of what just happened. As your guffaws turned into snickers, then chuckles and back to giggles, you realized how intently Alfred was staring at you and you started to apologize rapidly for laughing at him. This just created a circle of laughter and apologizes, until both of you were red in the face and heaving with gasps, spread out eagle style on the ground. By this time you had finally manage to calm yourself and went over to your best friend, waiting for Alfred to jump up and carry you across the threshold firefighter style.

He did not disappoint you.

As he plopped you down on your couch, you spread out your limbs to try to fill up as much room as your (height) frame would allow. Considering how big your couch was, you didn't succeed in filling the thing. At all. So when Alfred came back from getting all the necessary snacks for your movie time, he did the most logical thing. He sat down the pile of food from his arms to the coffee table, then proceeded to pull your arms into a sitting position, then place himself behind you, making it so that you were placed comfortably on his lap. Because, of course, he couldn't have just sat down at the other end where your feet left enough room for him to be just as comfortable.

Sitting on Alfred's lap wasn't as weird as you were expecting it to be, and so you just snuggled into his worn bomber jacket, once again missing a ferocious blush dominating his face. You didn't know what was up with Al today, but you were going to take advantage of all the closeness that came with it. You both stayed that way as you watch the 3 hour movie on World War One. While you have seen it dozens of times, it still amazes you how the entire thing started, how everyone got involved, and then how it ended.

By the end of the movie a deaf person could have easily heard the whale noises coming from your stomach.

It was time for the Bar-B-Que!

Both you and Alfred jumped up and raced to the patio. Alfred got the grill started while you got out the meat. Of course you were going to have old-fashioned hamburgers and hot dogs. Alfred couldn't cook or bake to save his life, but he could grill a mean slab of meat. You were gathering all the toppings you wanted and after the Cokes were in the freezer, a little habit of yours', you raced back outside to the appealing aroma of grilling beef. However, when you poked your head outside the door, you made sure to keep your steps light and quiet as you spotted your best friend in a "Kiss the Cook!" apron. You had to say, he looked both adorable and sexy.

Ever so cautious, you made it your job to scare the blonde. When Alfred closed the hatch on the grill, but before he turned around, you slithered your arms around his waist, going up on your toes to kiss the back of his neck. Maybe next time Alfred shouldn't where that apron unless he wants more than just a small kiss to the back of his next, you didn't think you could stop yourself before you gave him another one and another one and another one...

Alfred started in surprise, nearly whipping his glasses off with the force he used to turn his neck. (You really hope he didn't just get whiplash.) Seeing his wide blue eyes, soft sandy hair with his forever-there cowlick, and cute little blush made your own face burst red as you realized just how close you were to kissing him.

On the lips.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment before smoke started to pour out of the grill and Alfred's attention snapped to it, the both of you spending the next 10 minutes trying to save lunch.

The incident in the back of your mind, you started to make your burger. It varied, sometimes you liked it plain and simple, other times very complex. Today, for it was a special day, you made one simple and the other complex. Alfred stuck with his usual triple patty meltdown time-bomb; a name you gave it for its huge proportion. (Both of you went and did the same with the hot dogs. You couldn't help but think of one word to suite this. _Pigs__._) You maneuvered the plates on your hands, your Coke in the crook of your elbow, freezing the skin there. Once you set your plates down, you almost dropped the Coke in haste to heat your skin back to its' normal temperature.

You couldn't wait to spend quality time with Alfred. Watching movies you've seen dozen of times while mocking them together and gorging on food as you get high off the caffeine in your Coke sounded like the perfect way to spend your time with the other. Alfred had been watching you, you could feel his gaze burn into your back. The kiss minutes before surfaced in your mind and you couldn't help but think that maybe Alfred was hoping you'd do it again. Before you shook those thoughts out of your mind, Alfred thought that moment of all times was the best to glomp you. Now, you didn't mind, but maybe it could have been more romantic had you not toppled over and on to the floor.

You guessed the less romantic feel of it was saved with you tangled up in Alfred's arms, lips dangerously close together.

His glasses had flown off his nose when he'd made his dive for you, staring into your wide (e/c) eyes. His sandy hair was mussed, your (h/l) (h/c) spread out behind you like your own halo. His nose bumped with yours' and Alfred couldn't stop the shudder that followed with the feel of your breath against his cheeks. Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips, as if you couldn't make a decision.

Truthfully, you couldn't.

Inching closer and closer you wanted to just press yourself against the broad expanse of his chest, to revel in the feeling that Alfred, your best friend, might just feel the same. And when your lips touched with his, soft and warm and oh-so sweet, your chest swelled with the emotion of love. Alfred shifted you in his arms as he sat back up, holding you still in his lap as he placed gentle kisses across your face and neck, stopping every few kisses to place one upon your lips.

But, of course, even paradise has its' clouds.

The forgotten movie continued to play and right when Alfred reached the hollow of your throat, a loud boom rocked your eardrums. Alfred jerked back, face flushed as he took in the markings he made upon your (s/c) skin. Right before your eyes you saw Alfred turn from loving to horrified. His mouth opened and closed in shock, as if he couldn't understand what he just did, with good reason. His eyes were wide and couldn't turn away from the bruises slowly forming upon your neck, couldn't look into your eyes to see if the same horrified expression was obvious on your face as it was his. He couldn't have been further from the truth, and with his reaction, it was obvious Alfred didn't know.

So, you made _sure_ he knew just how you felt.

Wiggling your arms free from Alfred's grip, you threw your arms around his neck, breaking his trance as he finally stared into your (e/c) eyes. You tried to project as much love and confidence as possible into your gaze to let him know that you wanted his kisses, his hugs, his company, **_him. _**You brought your face close to his once more, no words spoken between the two of you, no words needed to spoken. You silently asked him with your movements,_ "Can you kiss me again?"_

And, well, he agreed wholeheartedly.


End file.
